


Peace Between the Earth Kingdom and Republic City

by Fuhadeza



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 08:09:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3283178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuhadeza/pseuds/Fuhadeza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Huan needs some help with his art. Ikki is happy to oblige. It goes well, all things considered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peace Between the Earth Kingdom and Republic City

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alimere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alimere/gifts).



> This is the first thing I have posted publicly in over ten years. So, uh, be kind? :D

The sack is unwieldy, but between the two of them they get it up the narrow stairs to the top of the tower. Ikki drops her end and it falls to the floor with a dull thud. She winces.

“Watch it,” Huan mutters. “It’s fragile.”

“ _You_ watch it,” she snaps back. “I could have flown up here and left you alone with your stupid sack.” She regards the exposed contents critically. “Can’t be very well made if it’s that fragile, anyhow. Isn’t it metal?”

“It’s _delicate_ ,” Huan says, and Ikki laughs. “Delicate like you’re not.”

Ikki moves to the shutters and throws them open, letting the night breeze in and looking out over Air Temple Island. “While I think about how you’re going to return this favour,” she says, “tell me why we’re up here.”

“Well,” Huan says. “It’s complicated.”

There’s a rustling behind her and Ikki turns to see Huan taking the last sculpture out of the sack and placing it carefully next to the other two.

“Ooh,” she says. “I haven’t seen that one before. What’s it meant to be? No, wait, I’ll guess.” She squints. “A unicorn?”

Huan seems to choke on his own tongue. “This,” he finally gets out, “is a representation of the peace between the Earth Kingdom and Republic City.”

“Hmm,” she says. “Are you sure it’s the right way up?”

“It’s _abstract_ ,” Huan says. He glares at her. “Do you want to know what we’re doing here or not?”

Ikki grins and lets the wind carry her up onto an abandoned chest of drawers. She crosses her legs. “Sure.”

Huan smooths his coat. “Someone once wrote,” he begins, “that no piece of art is ever finished. Only abandoned.” He flourishes his hands, thinks better of it, and sticks them in his pockets instead.

Ikki considers this. “That’s stupid.”

“I— no that is not _stupid_ ,” Huan says. “A very wise woman said it.” He pauses. “In this instance, however, she was not entirely correct.”

“So…”

“So no piece of art is ever finished by the _artist_. But the very act of abandoning it allows nature _itself_ to finish it. See?”

“No,” Ikki says. “But thanks. So…”

“So in this case nature is represented by the wind outside. With a little help from the flagstones down there.” He jerks his thumb at the open window.

“Ah! So we’re throwing sculptures out the window. You could have just said that.”

“We’re not just throwing them out the— oh, never mind, just give me a hand.”

Ikki jumps down and accepts the first sculpture from him. “This one’s the rainbow?” Huan glares at her. “Okay, okay, I get it. Throwing out the window. Right.” She pauses. “Uh, any particular technique? Do I just drop it or—”

“Whatever feels right.”

“Right. Sure.” She stares at the unwieldy sculpture in her hands, shrugs, and casually tosses it over her shoulder. It flies in a smooth arc and disappears soundlessly out the open window.

Huan blinks at her. She blinks back. A second later the unmistakable sound of metal on stone disrupts the night. They wait ten guilty heartbeats. Then Huan shrugs, moves up next to her, and drops the second sculpture. This time they watch it fall, and the sound seems louder for being observed.

Ikki tries to make out the ground below. “Is it working?”

“It’s not a question of working or not, it’s _art_.”

“Sure, sure.” She grins and lets small breezes play idly with her clothes. “But is it working?”

“You’re impossible,” Huan says. “One more.” He hoists the last sculpture, the new one, but this one is heavier and as he heaves it out the window one arm windmills and disrupts Ikki’s subconscious airbending, and the room is full of a sudden gust of wind—

They watch the sculpture fall, glancing off the next level down and taking a few tiles with it, then falling in a perfect arc that takes the corner of the lowest roof clean off.

They stare at each other in the perfect silence that follows. Then Ikki leans out the window and squints down at the sculpture, lying proudly in the middle of strewn debris, illuminated by the lights coming on all over the complex amidst a rising tide of voices.

“Ah, yes. I think I see it now.” She grins. “Peace between the Earth Kingdom and Republic City.”


End file.
